


Contest

by Kit_SummerIsle



Series: Cybertronian Advent Calendar [13]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Advent Calendar, Contest, Drinking, Gen, high-grade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 23:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_SummerIsle/pseuds/Kit_SummerIsle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Advent Calendar Day 16 - prompt: high-grade<br/>And just how did they end up in a drinking contest...?<br/>G1-ish AU, can be set after the events in Surprise II (the worst gift).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contest

Optimus grasped the fifth cube with some difficulty, only sloshing out a little as he carefully lifted it up to his mouth. His mask hung askew and he found it difficult to properly target his lips with the cube. The smell of the expensive high-grade wafted up but instead of appreciating it, he only felt faint disgust. But he poured it in quickly, and grimaced a little as the potent brew slid down his intakes and into his also slightly rebelling tanks. Slamming the empty cube to the table and straightening his slumped posture, he announced.

“Your turn!”

Starscream smirked at him, his stance completely straight, wings properly held high, only his red optics shone with a lot more fire than usual. His claws closed around a cube from the line in front of him and with a toss of his helm he emptied the cube fast. He put the cube back to the table with an exaggerated flourish and smirked again, victorious and self-confident, like always. His scratchy voice acquired a distinctive purring tinge as he answered.

“You again, my dearest.”

Optimus grimaced, though he wanted to keep his faceplates straight. Damned battle mask, he thought, he was far too used to it hiding his expressions. Disciplining his unruly face and servos, he carefully selected a cube again and – let’s get it over with quickly – tossed it back. The strength made his optics secrete a little cleanser but he hoped that Starscream – he, too must have been affected somewhat, damned Seeker! – didn’t notice it.

“You. Cube.”

“Reduced to monosyllabic words already? Tch, tchhh…”

Starscream smirked at his indignant expression and deliberately chose a cube slowly and drank it with exaggerated tasting the expensive high-grade – and how did they end up drinking his thousand-vorn old gift from Alpha Trion for sport? - and enjoying its flavours. Optimus Prime glowered at the Seeker and didn’t bother hiding it.

“Now, if you will…?”

Optimus seriously considered giving up the contest at that point. Starscream seemed more and more sober and awake at every cube, like he was thriving on the overcharge. Of course considering that he was Starscream, it was entirely possible. The jet just did everything backwards compared to normal mechs. But he too had his pride, by this time fuelled also by the cubes he consumed and it didn’t let him. He tossed back the next cube and fought down the wave of nausea that tried to rise with it. Let the fragging Seeker play connoisseur after six cubes. 

“Your turn again.” – he was proud to announce it almost normally.

Starscream drank the cube again slowly, with obvious pleasure and Optimus had a few kliks to think. How on Cybertron have they ended up in a drinking contest, he had no idea. They were supposed to be negotiating, although he did remember Jazz’s knowing smirk and some not-so-secret smiles that showed that his mechs didn’t quite believe in the story of Starscream just deactivating Megatron and wanting a truce for nothing more than a thank you. No, there was a reason why they were _negotiating_ in private and not surrounded by his and the Seeker’s officers. But where did it end up in drinking…? That part was lost in the growing haze of his overcharge.

“I’m waiting… perhaps you’ve found it too much… already?”

Starscream’s tone was condescending and ironic, both of which Optimus knew very well and wanted to delete from the dark, but beautiful face. He lifted the next cube with difficulty and with more or less success he tossed the contents back, then wiped the excess off his faceplates. One thing he knew for sure – that he’d want to dispel the overcharge in the most obvious and enjoyable way with Starscream. If, at the end he was still capable of doing so…

“Prime? Optimus?”

He have lost a few kliks from his memory cache and Starscream’s insistent calling of his designation was like being woken up after half a joor of recharge. His processor throbbed and his audials glitched, the Seeker’s voice suddenly jumping a few octaves mid-word. Oh, wait he could do that by himself. He didn’t find the next cube on the table and for another few breems he was looking for it forlornly. Was he going to lose just because the high-grade evaporated?

The scratchy laugh was suddenly so much closer and Optimus felt himself falling backwards and unable to lift a servo to break it or catch a hold as Starscream pounced. There must have been a landing too, but his senses were suddenly completely focused on the petite figure of the Seeker, astride on his suddenly scorching hot panel, to the exclusion of everything else. 

Good, at least Starscream had the same idea about the terrible overcharge they both had to have. It was his last coherent thought for a while, because then a dark face filled in his vision and hot ex-vent excited his sensors, while needle-sharp but gentle claws scratched on his panel until it went click. From then on it was instinct, need and lust until they lay sated and in a tangled heap on the meeting room floor.


End file.
